


Good Things Come...

by thewesterndoor



Series: Strange Neighbours [6]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 3+1, Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Victuuri - Freeform, Cock Piercing, College Student Yuri Plisetsky, DJ Otabek Altin, Edging, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23245018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewesterndoor/pseuds/thewesterndoor
Summary: When Yuri comes back from a family camping trip, he discovers that Otabek has a new piercing.  It's going to take three weeks before it can get some play, but it's not like that's going to be a problem, right?Part of a series of one-shots for different ships (sequel to All's Fair but can be read as a stand alone)
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Strange Neighbours [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1090296
Comments: 10
Kudos: 122





	Good Things Come...

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, so I guess this is my contribution in this time of global crisis? 
> 
> Many thanks have to go to nekoshka who beta read and helped wrangle my grammar, and to ophelietta who beta read!
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and practising good social distancing wherever possible!
> 
> Thank you for any comments and kudos ❤️ They honestly mean so much

Yuri slammed the door shut with a vicious and satisfying bang. In the driver’s seat, Viktor just continued to smile as he waved a sunny goodbye before pulling the car away from the curb and leaving Yuri to glare at the retreating tail lights.

That was the absolute last time Yuri was ever agreeing to go on the family camping trip. Thirteen hours in the car each way would have been bad enough, but Yuri’d had to spend the whole trip watching Viktor and Katsudon holding hands, calling each other pet names, and just looking obscenely happy. It was supposed to have been  _ Yuri’s _ chance to be that couple — when he’d agreed to go it was with thoughts of snuggling in front of a bonfire with Otabek, sharing a sleeping bag, and sneaking down to the lake for midnight skinny dipping — but his boyfriend had to work, and Yuri had spent the week as Viktor and Katsudon’s third wheel.

But as he looked up at his apartment building, he felt the first stirrings of genuine happiness since he’d dropped Potya off with Beka. His hands drifted up to fidget with his hair, wondering if he should take a shower before he knocked on Beka’s door; he’d pulled his blond hair into a braid in an attempt to hide the greasy roots that dry shampoo hadn’t been able to manage, and he smelled like sweat and jerky and Fritos. But Yuri wasn’t sure he could wait that long. Maybe he’d just go, say hi, and then take that shower...except once he saw Beka, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to leave.

A week surrounded by all of his relatives, with nothing more than canvas walls to separate them, had left Yuri no time for even the comforts of his own hand, and he’d long passed the point of feeling only a little desperate. That morning he’d woken up from a dream where Beka was over him and in him to a fierce hard-on. If the coin-operated showers hadn’t been so public and disgusting Yuri would’ve taken care of it there, but instead he’d just stood under the frigid water until the worst of his arousal had gone.

Yuri hauled his backpack up onto his shoulders, grabbed his sleeping bag and tent, and raced into the building. He took the steps two at a time up to the second floor and hurried to his front door. As quickly as he could manage, he unlocked it and tossed his stuff just inside the doorway before he spun around to dart down the hallway to Otabek’s apartment.

He paused for a moment to take a deep breath and tug at the hem of his oversized hoodie before he knocked on the door.

There was the sound of footsteps before the door swung open to reveal Otabek. His eyes had the slightly fuzzy quality that he sometimes got when he was working on new arrangements, like his thoughts were still back with the music, but on seeing Yuri a small smile lifted the corners of his lips.

Yuri heard a belligerent meow from down by their feet and when his gaze dropped, he saw a cream coloured cat rubbing itself against Otabek’s legs, an equally belligerent expression on its face.

“Ohmygod I missed you,” Yuri said.

He stretched out his hands towards Potya, who backed up with a glare and swung around to dart back into Otabek’s apartment.

“Nooooo.”

When Yuri looked back up he could see that Otabek had quirked one eyebrow, though his smile had grown a bit wider.

“He likes me better now.”

“I won’t tolerate this sort of insubordination,” Yuri said, an answering smile rising up. He leaned forward, pressing his hands against the soft cotton of Otabek’s t-shirt and enjoying the feel of warm muscles beneath, and pressed a quick kiss against his boyfriend’s lips. “I might’ve missed you too.”

Otabek stepped back a little and waved towards the living room that was visible behind him. “You want to come in? I wasn’t sure when you’d be back, but I got some of those coolers you like.”

Warmth flared sharp and bright in Yuri’s chest, followed closely behind by a flutter of butterflies in his gut. He could feel his cheeks burn and hoped that Otabek would think the flush was just too much sun from his week outdoors and not anything so dumb as being pleased that his boyfriend had thought about him.

“Yeah, I can spare a few minutes.”

Yuri followed Otabek inside the apartment, hungrily watching the way his t-shirt pulled at his broad shoulders and the flex of his ass in those jeans. God, how had Yuri forgotten just how  _ good _ Otabek’s ass looked?

Soon the two of them were sitting side by side on the couch, a bottle filled with something pink sweating in Yuri’s hand. He hummed in appreciation at the sweet explosion of raspberry across his tongue.

“You have a good time on the trip?” Otabek asked between sips of his beer.

Yuri sighed and leaned into the cushion to rest his cheek against the back. He wrinkled his nose and grimaced.

“The lake was nice, I guess, but my family has this thing where we have these stupid competitions. Like old-timey church picnic stuff. If it’s a race and it makes you look dumb, we have to do it.”

“Three-legged race stuff?”

“All of it. Viktor and Katsudon made matching t-shirts for it. It was horrifying. Though they did make a matching bandana for Makkachin who looked pretty good. For a poodle.”

Otabek laughed softly and took another sip. Yuri couldn’t help but watch his lips as they wrapped around the top of the bottle, the muscles in his neck as he swallowed.

“Sounds fun.”

“It would’ve been more fun with you.”

Otabek’s gaze softened and he reached forward to gently brush some of the wisps of hair that had escaped from Yuri’s braid back from his face. Just the barely-there sensation of Beka’s finger by his temples, the soft drift of his fingers over the loops of Yuri’s braid, sent tingles racing down his spine.

Carefully, Yuri set his bottle down on the coffee table and rose up onto his knees to crawl forward until he was pressed close to Otabek. He raised one hand and raked his fingers along the shaved side of Otabek’s head, letting his nails press in that way he knew Otabek loved, before he sank his fingers into the thick wave of hair on top. He pulled just enough to hear the soft sound as Otabek’s breath left him in a rush, and then he leaned forward for a kiss.

All of the lingering frustration from the previous week—from that damned dream—poured out into the kiss, and Yuri  _ feasted _ on him. It was rough and wet and exactly what Yuri needed.

With his other hand, he reached for Otabek’s fly. He didn’t care how desperate he might seem; at that moment Yuri just needed it quick and hard, to get some relief. After, it could be slow and thorough, because there was no way one round would be enough for him.

He had the button between his fingers, starting to work it through the buttonhole, when Otabek grabbed hold of his hand and stilled his movement.

A flush had risen up into Otabek’s cheeks, his pupils blown wide, but Yuri also saw an odd grimace and a slight clench of his jaw.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

Yuri was suddenly aware of exactly how disgusting he was. Not even in a kind of charmingly gross sort of way. It was a terrible idea to come straight here without a shower or, oh god, without brushing his teeth. Even his clothes were the same ones he’d been wearing for at least a day or two.

Rearing back, Yuri tried to smile.

“Sorry. I’m…I’m gonna go back to my place, take a shower, maybe burn my clothes. I can come find you later, or…” Yuri tugged his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie and looked at the time. “Or we can meet up tomorrow.”

Tension spiralled out through his body as he spoke, a tightness grabbing hold of his shoulders and spearing through his chest to grip his lungs.

The hand still gripping Yuri slackened a little, and Otabek’s fingers gently stroked the thin skin of his wrist, his thumb sliding down to the palm. The whisper-lightness of it made Yuri groan.

“It’s not you,” Otabek said, and Yuri suddenly couldn’t breathe for the panic that was growing like spiky vines.

“No?” he said carefully.

“No. I just…while you were away…” Yuri could feel the panic now pressing against the back of his throat as he waited for Otabek to continue. “I went and got a piercing.”

Yuri froze.

“What?”

“We’d sort of talked about it. You said that you were into them, and I’ve been wanting one for a while, so I thought while you were away was a good time to get it. So it could heal.” Beneath the light gold of his skin, Otabek’s cheeks had turned a gorgeous pink.

“What?!” Yuri’s panic had given way to an excitement that twisted through him in radiant sparks. He looked down at Otabek’s crotch as if he could see through the fabric to confirm the direction of his thoughts. Did he dare hope?

“It’s still going to take about a month—maybe another three weeks—before it’s healed enough for…for it to get some use. I think six months for it to heal completely.”

All of the arousal that had dropped to a low simmer returned to grab hold of Yuri like a fist.

“Beka, did you get your cock pierced?” he asked in a rush, finally looking back up to meet Otabek’s eyes.

Otabek nodded.

“Oh god, you have to let me  _ see _ it.”

Otabek’s fingers paused their stroking of Yuri’s wrist for a moment before they resumed their path again, his dark eyes considering.

“I don’t know. It’s still so new. Healing piercings always look a little…”

“I don’t care. I  _ need _ to see it.”

If Yuri wasn’t going to get any action, then he at least deserved a look.

Slowly Otabek let go of Yuri’s wrist and reached down for his pants. With careful movements he undid them, opening them up and then tugging his underwear down to pull out his cock. Even soft, Otabek’s dick was enough to make Yuri’s thoughts go a little scattered; he had to press his hands under his knees to stop himself from reaching out to trace his fingers along the length. 

At the tip, just under the head, Yuri saw the short steel barbell. The skin was a little darker where the barbell went into the skin, swollen just enough to let Yuri know that it was very definitely a fresh piercing. His fingers  _ itched _ with need to touch it.

“Did it hurt much?”

“Yura, someone put a needle through part of my dick. It hurt exactly as much as you’d expect.”

Yuri’s laugh was shaky and trailed off into something more like a sigh of longing.

“You said three weeks?”

“Roughly, yeah,” Otabek said as he tucked himself back into his briefs.

“Okay, three weeks.”

***

Saturday night burned hot around Yuri. With his return to town, a heat wave had taken hold and showed no signs of letting up; even just lounging around on his couch, Potya in a cat loaf on his stomach and a fan pointed directly on them, was exhausting. And it was a little lonely. Between the start of wedding season and high schools’ graduations, Otabek had been working constantly for the past week, and so Yuri had been on his own with just Netflix for company.

Probably for the best, really. The first night back, after somehow managing to finish his drink and watch an episode of some generic baking show on Food Network — all while keeping his hands to himself — Yuri had finally left to take his shower. With the first spray of hot water against his back, before he’d even started to wash off the grime from his trip, Yuri had wrapped his fist around his dick, stroking himself fast and fierce. His thoughts had burned with the image of the silver barbell, wondering what the little beads would feel like against his tongue, what they would feel like as Otabek pumped inside him. It hadn’t taken long before Yuri had one arm braced against the tiled wall, shuddering, his ragged breath audible over the torrent of water as he came.

From that point on, it had become a nightly occurrence for Yuri to jerk himself off to thoughts of what waited for him at the end of the month. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to handle it if he’d actually had Otabek around.

But tonight would be his first big test. Despite the heat, Yuri had pulled on his best skinny jeans and the most light-weight slinky top he owned, and he’d dragged himself out to the club. Otabek had a set and there was no way Yuri was going to miss the opportunity to watch his boyfriend work.

Yuri loved to watch Otabek up on stage. His eyes always got that focussed look that reminded Yuri of when Otabek’s attention was on him, and the music itself always set Yuri’s body humming until it was like each thump of the bass or catch in the music was Otabek’s fingers on  _ him _ rather than the electronics. Even if there was a chance that the experience might kill him—knowing that it would end with nothing more than a kiss and Yuri taking care of himself—Yuri was determined to be there. He was an adult, goddammit. Maybe not a good one, but he could definitely manage this.

Otabek had gone straight to the club from another gig, so Yuri’d had to grab the bus downtown. It wasn’t a long trip but the bus was packed and by the time he’d reached his stop, sweat was pooling at the small of his back, along the waistband of his jeans, behind his knees.

The night was muggy and thick, hot air pressing close against his skin with no sign of a breeze. Inside, Yuri knew it would be no better— _ worse _ actually. If the club had air conditioning you’d never know it, and with the crowds that were drawn in on a night Otabek was playing the heat would be oppressive.

Still, Yuri straightened his spine, lifted his chin, and followed the sidewalk up to where a line had already begun to form, snaking out the club’s entrance.

“Yurio!” A voice called, and Yuri turned automatically.

A hand waved excitedly at him, drawing his attention to a beaming smile. It took him a moment to recognize the unfamiliar face before a memory of Viktor and Katsudon’s last game night clicked into place. Phichit, Katsudon’s best friend and former roommate, had been cutthroat when it came to  _ Zombie Dice _ —and surprisingly filthy when they’d moved onto  _ Telestrations _ .

Yuri rocked on his heels for a moment trying to decide if he should go over. He didn’t have anything specifically  _ against _ Phichit, and it would be more fun if he had someone to hang out with while he waited for the doors to open, but he still wasn’t sure. With the notable exception of Otabek, Yuri wasn’t great with new people...or people in general. He was never quite sure what to say—his first time meeting Otabek, he’d all but told him to fuck off. And if Yuri did anything to upset Phichit, Katsudon would find out, and then Viktor would come around to hassle Yuri which could only be a huge production.

While Yuri was thinking, Phichit shoved his way past a laughing boy with long hair and soft brown eyes to come up to him.

“Hey!”

Phichit’s small frame was vibrating and his eyes were bright.

“Uh, hey.”

If Yuri was like his cousin, he would’ve had something amusing or charming to say, but instead he could only stand there awkwardly. Phichit pulled back slightly, his smile dimming for the briefest second, and then Yuri had the oddest impression that Phichit’s eyes softened.

“You here on your own?”

“Sort of. My boyfriend’s playing tonight. Won’t be able to see him until after his set though.”

Instantly Phichit’s excitement amped up several levels and he waved back towards the line, where the brown-haired boy and two with dark hair were staring at the interaction.

“Your boyfriend’s Otabek Altin, right? He was at the game night Yuuri had a few months ago? We actually came out tonight because Leo heard he was playing. He’s obsessed with his beats. Clearly this is fate. You have to join us! And then you can introduce Leo to Otabek, so he can pick his brain.”

Yuri bristled at several points of what Phichit said. He hated the reminder that he and Katsudon shared the same name, albeit with a different spelling. During the camping trip, much to his horror, he’d had to listen to Viktor groaning his name more than a few times when he and Katsudon had gone for a ‘nap’ in their tent. He was also pretty sure he had no interest in spending the night with a whole group of Katsudon’s friends. But most of all, Yuri felt a crawling sensation on the back of his neck, something that made his knuckles itch and his jaw clench, at the idea of introducing someone else to his boyfriend. Even if it was purely professional.

But Yuri couldn’t figure out any way to say no that wouldn’t lead to Viktor showing up on his doorstep to throw a fit, so he just followed Phichit back to the rest of the group, smiling awkwardly at the other guys. 

By the time the doors opened and they were able to head inside, Yuri had to admit that he hadn’t hated standing with them. Phichit and Guang-Hong’s antics as they chronicled the wait for their Instagrams had mostly been entertaining, if a little extra, and hearing Leo gush about Beka’s talent had given Yuri a glow of secondhand pride. Certainly, it had been better than standing alone.

Inside the club, before Yuri had a chance to disappear, Phichit grabbed hold of his wrist and towed him towards the bar.

“Shots!” Phichit crowed. “We need shots tonight! Yurio, you want to do shots?”

Before Yuri could respond, tequila was pressed into his hand. It didn’t take much thought before he tipped his head back and drained the shot glass.

By the time Yuri heard the first set wind down, he was several shots into the night. And a couple of daiquiris. And that beer Phichit hadn’t wanted to finish. The electric haze of a good buzz was twisting through him when he heard Otabek’s familiar growled opening to the crowd. Yuri spun towards the stage.

_ Too far _ . From where he stood at the back of the club near the bar, there were entirely too many people between Yuri and Otabek, and he wanted to be closer. Music started to fill the club, a heavy bass that punched through Yuri’s chest like a second heartbeat, and when the verse kicked in tingles prickled along the edge of Yuri’s scalp before racing down his spine.

Quickly he shoved his way through the crowd, abandoning Phichit and the others, not stopping until he’d reached the front. From there he looked up to see Otabek slightly hunched over the table, one hand reaching for the sound mixer.

Yuri lost himself in the ebb and flow of the beat, his hips moving along with the music. The others came and found him for a bit, but Yuri didn’t spare them any notice. When his eyes weren’t drifting shut, they were locked on Otabek—on the way the lights caught his dark hair, or the hungry grin he would occasionally throw in Yuri’s direction. And those hands…

Generally Yuri had a low-key obsession with his boyfriends hands. They were broader than Yuri’s, his fingers thicker, his palms always so warm, and Otabek had a way of using them that could melt Yuri into a panting mess. But seeing them in the dark, coaxing out a building rhythm, Yuri’s cock started to stir in his jeans.

His thoughts drifted to that barbell and Yuri groaned, the sound lost to the music.

Normally after a show, as soon as Otabek had stepped off the stage, Yuri would grab him by the hand and drag him into the men’s room. He’d slam Otabek back against a stall door and grind into him until Otabek took both their dicks in his gorgeous hand, Yuri hiding his moans in Otabek’s shoulder as Otabek groaned curses into his ear. What would it be like with the addition of the piercing? To feel the slight ridge where the barbell went through the skin sliding against his own cock? To feel the beads bump up against the sensitive head?

Yuri’s cock  _ throbbed _ with the thought, and the music wasn’t helping. It was starting to ramp up towards a climax, a peak hovering in the distance, and Yuri’s whole body was growing hotter. When Otabek winked at him, Yuri felt a tug right through his lower abdomen.

Legs wobbly, Yuri staggered away and rushed for the bathroom.

He dashed into one of the stalls and then fell back against the closed door. Already his fingers fumbled with the fly of his jeans to pull himself free. He hissed at the feel of his hand as he rubbed his palm across the tip of his cock, and then wrapped his fingers around the length and started to pump.

With the muted sound of Otabek’s set filtering through the closed door and the thought of the piercing, it didn’t take long for Yuri’s body to draw tight, heat building up. He came with a rush, not bothering to try to hold back his cries.

But it still wasn’t quite enough. He needed more. He needed Otabek.

_ Two weeks. You just have to hold out for two more weeks. _

Yuri took a deep breath and then cleaned himself up as best he could. He took a quick look in the mirror to fix his clothes, giving himself his best ‘you can do this!’ look before he headed back out to catch the rest of the set.

***

“Okay, so they’re  _ supposed _ to make shitty desserts?”

Yuri leaned further back into Otabek’s arms and tilted his head up so that he was staring at the underside of his jaw. After three weeks of nothing more than quick kisses and cuddling on the couch, it took Yuri a moment to ignore the view he had of that spot just under Otabek’s ear where Yuri knew even the lightest of kisses would make Beka melt…

“Yura?” Otabek said.

“Sorry,” Yuri said as he wrenched his gaze back to the tv. “They’re not  _ supposed _ to make shitty stuff, just kind of expected to.”

Behind him, Yuri felt Otabek shift, the firm planes of his chest brushing against Yuri’s back. One hand pressed against Yuri’s shoulder, warmth sinking through the fabric of his t-shirt. Gently Otabek traced the line of muscle up to Yuri’s collar and then continued up along his neck. A hum started under his skin following the path of Otabek’s touch. It clearly wasn’t meant to be the start of anything, just absentminded affection, but already Yuri could feel need starting to unfurl in his stomach.

“Beka, you’re killing me.”

“Hmmm?”

Yuri tightened his hands around the sweating bottle of iced tea, glaring at the sloshing amber liquid. He took a deep breath in through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.

“I’m not sure I can handle it if you keep that up, not without being able to finish it,” Yuri said, regretting it immediately.

It was one of the few evenings they’d been able to carve out to spend time together, and Yuri had promised himself that he’d be good. He knew that he couldn’t be the only one suffering—he certainly wasn’t the one with a dick that needed to heal—and so he’d decided that he would keep it chill. 

Yuri had gone to the trouble of asking Katsudon for some recipes and made dinner for the two of them. After they’d finished eating, they’d settled onto the couch to watch an episode of  _ Nailed It! _ The nuances of a good baking show, or any cooking show, were still lost on Otabek, but it seemed like a safe option. People fucking up their buttercream or making a mess of their batter was nice and neutral. 

Except Yuri had vastly overestimated his amount of chill. Really, he’d forgotten he had  _ no _ chill where Otabek was concerned.

After the first episode, Otabek had pulled Yuri closer until he was between Otabek’s legs, leaning back against his chest. Surrounded by Otabek’s scent, sandalwood and sweat, and feeling him so warm against his back despite the air conditioner working overtime in the window, Yuri’d had to work to keep his attention on the show—to keep to his intentions. But with the drag of those blunt fingertips over his skin, every single good intention had evaporated.

“You’ve been taking this pretty hard, huh?” Otabek said against Yuri’s ear, his fingers resuming their path up and down Yuri’s neck.

Yuri inhaled sharply, but he couldn’t help but press further into the touch.

“You noticed?” he said with a shaky laugh that turned breathy the moment Otabek’s fingers dipped under the collar of his shirt.

He felt, rather than heard, Otabek’s answering laugh.

“Hard not to. Even last week when you vanished at the club, the moment I saw you back out on the floor, it was difficult to focus instead of picturing what you’d been up to. And then when you called me the other night? That was to jerk off, right?”

Yuri’s face burned at the memory, even as his cock started to harden. He’d started to find his daily sessions to be a little lonely—almost as much as he missed the actual sex itself, he missed the intimacy of it all. Already he’d stroked himself to an orgasm in the shower, but it still hadn’t been enough, so damp and warm he’d crawled into bed and called Otabek. Yuri had thought he’d been good about hiding his noises, hiding the fact that he’d been jerking off to the sound of his boyfriend talking about his day. That orgasm had been one of the best since Yuri had come home, but still not what he needed.

Otabek pushed Yuri’s hair off his neck, and pressed a kiss just behind his ear.

“Sorry. That’s actually kind of fucked up, right? I should’ve asked, or…” his breath stalled at the feel of Otabek’s tongue against his skin on that same spot on his neck.

“Maybe? I kind of liked it--I would’ve liked it a lot more if I hadn’t been trapped behind the DJ table with a dozen kids trying to get me to play  _ Africa _ .”

“Like…by Toto?”

“Yeah. I think they thought it was funny. Most of them were pretty drunk…”

Yuri groaned when he felt teeth gently nip at his skin and Otabek’s fingers blaze a path down his pec until he’d reached Yuri’s nipple. Then those fingers grabbed hold of the nub, rolling it gently in a way that made everything inside Yuri sharp and tight.

“Beka,” Yuri groaned, his eyes closing as he tried to find a calm centre in the desperation that was building up around him. “I can’t…I  _ need… _ ”

Yuri had been on a knife edge for weeks, and the few remaining shreds of his self-control were turning to ash. Otabek’s response was to pull Yuri closer until their hips were flus, and Yuri could feel the hard press of Otabek’s own erection against the small of his back. When Otabek rocked forward, Yuri heard the catch in his breath followed by a rush of hot air against his neck, and he whined.

“We can’t. Right?”

Otabek’s fingers plucked at Yuri’s nipple harder this time and he felt the touch all the way to his cock, the other hand sliding around Yuri’s waist and down his stomach to one of his legs, pausing on the inside of Yuri’s legging-clad thigh.

“We can’t do much,” Otabek said, his own voice strained, “but I can do this. Let me take care of you.”

Everything in Yuri’s mind went blank at Otabek’s offer. He was already straining up into Otabek’s touch, and his leggings had become absolutely obscene with the way his cock pressed up against the thin fabric.

“What about you?” He somehow found the words, stringing them together between pants.

“Still a bit tender for any play, but soon…” Otabek punctuated the phrase by sucking a mark into Yuri’s neck that drew all of his need into sharp relief. “May I?”

Yuri nodded, the motion jerky and his hair spilling around his face. He reached to the side and twisted his fingers into Otabek’s sweats, wishing he was grabbing hold of the thighs beneath.

Otabek finally withdrew his hand from Yuri’s shirt and lowered it to his stomach, slipping up under the hem. Gently he traced the quivering edge of Yuri’s leggings, Yuri’s abdomen clenching against the pleasure that rippled out. Finally… _ finally _ , the tips of Otabek’s fingers slipped under the waistband and dragged down across sensitive skin until he’d reached Yuri’s cock.

The only thing saving Yuri’s dignity at the moment and stopping him from cumming right away was that he couldn’t actually see any of what was happening underneath his clothes. If he’d actually seen how Otabek thumbed against the slit of his cock, or how his strong hand looked wrapped loosely around him as he pumped, Yuri would’ve been over the edge. Even just feeling the drag of Otabek’s hot palm across his throbbing flesh was enough to make Yuri drive his teeth into his lower lip, his body quaking.

Behind him, Otabek had started to rock up against his back, the careful rhythm a reminder of the healing piercing.

“I wish I hadn’t seen it yet,” Yuri groaned.

“Seen what?”

“Your piercing.”

Otabek paused and Yuri was filled with horror at the possibility that Otabek might stop completely. His limbs were buzzing with his impending release and he needed just a bit more.

“Yeah, I guess a healing piercing is kind of a…turn-off.”

The tone in Otabek’s voice was enough to break through Yuri’s haze of arousal. Yuri shifted a little to the side, pressing against one of Otabek’s thighs, and looked up at him.

“Don’t be so fucking dumb. I wish I hadn’t seen it yet because that’s  _ all _ I’ve been able to think about. Do you know how many times I’ve jerked off to the thought of it? If you’re worried about me finding something about you a turn off, be more concerned about your nasty fucking taste in beer.”

Otabek leaned forward and claimed Yuri’s lips in a searing kiss while his hand started to move again. The onslaught of tongue, teeth tugging at Yuri’s lips, and the way Otabek knew exactly how to touch him was enough to throw Yuri over the edge.

His orgasm was vicious, hips jerking up into Otabek’s fist as his cries swallowed down by Otabek. When Yuri finally had a chance to catch his breath, his leggings were a mess and his whole chest shook with the force of his heartbeat. 

It had been far closer to what he needed than anything he’d been able to manage himself since he’d come home, but it still wasn’t quite what he wanted. As if in support of his thoughts, he could feel the insistent press of Otabek’s cock against his back.

Yuri pressed back against it and was rewarded with a groan and Otabek’s fingers clenching into the meat of Yuri’s thigh.

“You sure you don’t want me to…”

Otabek pulled his hands out of Yuri’s leggings and helped him to his feet before joining him in front of the couch. He pressed a sweet kiss against Yuri’s lips.

“I want it so much, but the moment you touch me I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

Yuri pressed his forehead against Otabek’s shoulder and took a deep breath.

“One week?”

“Yeah, one more week.”

***

Yuri stared in disbelief out into his building’s hallway. When he’d hurried over to the door, scrabbling across the apartment from his bedroom, he’d expected to find Otabek waiting for him. It was  _ supposed _ to be Otabek. But instead of his boyfriend’s grey eyes and dark hair, Yuri came face to face with silver hair and heart-shaped smile.

“Yurio,” Viktor cooed, shoving him aside so he and Katsudon could walk in.

“What are you doing here?”

Viktor tilted his head in that way that looked astonishingly like his poodle and blinked.

“It’s Tuesday…” He reached into his tote bag and pulled out a bottle of wine.

“Uh huh?”

Already Viktor had wandered into the kitchen to start rifling through Yuri’s drawers. He pulled out the bottle opener and gave Yuri a confused look.

“Tuesday night…Food Truck Wars… Yuuri, can you grab the glasses?”

_ Shit. _ In Yuri’s excitement—desperation—he’d somehow completely forgotten about his standing plans with Viktor and Katsudon. One of Viktor’s few redeemable features was his shared love of any and all cooking shows and that he insisted they have a charcuterie board and cheese plate while they watched. Yuri could almost forgive Viktor for being such an extra fuck when it meant that he always bought the good cheese.

“Sorry, I forgot. Tonight’s not really a good night.”

“Are you okay?” Katsudon said.

For an instant Yuri was tempted to just say he was sick. It was the only way he’d get them back out the door quickly and with few questions, but Yuri felt an unexpected wash of guilt at the concern in Katsudon’s brown eyes, so he shook his head quickly.

“No, Beka and I have plans. That’s all.”

“Oh? That’s it?” Viktor said. He set the bottle on the table and started to pull out the items for that week’s cheese board. “He can join us—I brought lots of food. All of the promos said it was going to be in Madison this week, so I tried to create a Wisconsin theme. Have you ever tried chocolate cheese? I’m not sure if it’s going to be disgusting or delicious, but I guess we’ll find out.”

“That sounds fucking awful,” Yuri said before he remembered that he needed to focus on getting them to leave and not Viktor’s occasionally adventurous food selection. “You need to go. We have plans.”

“Oh? Something fun?” Viktor’s tone was mild enough that there was clearly no hidden meaning, but Yuri could still feel his face starting to burn.

“Just…plans. Normal plans.”

“Vitya,” Katsudon said, pressing a hand against Viktor’s shoulder. “I think we should probably go.”

“But Food Truck Wars?!”

The idiot actually pouted as he spoke, but apparently the gods were finally smiling on Yuri as Katsudon remained unmoved.

“You know they’ll show a re-run on Sunday. We’ll come back then—does that work for you, Yurio?”

Yuri just shrugged and nodded vaguely, despite the gratitude gripping his chest tight.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

It didn’t take long before Viktor had shoved the food back into his bag, though they left the bottle of wine. It had been accompanied by a wink from Viktor and a knowing smile from Katsudon that made Yuri want to hit them or throw up—probably both—but it was actually a pretty decent bottle, so his disgust faded fast. As they walked out into the hallway, Yuri saw Otabek coming towards the door only to pause when he saw the two leaving.

“Otabek, hi!” Viktor said with a sunny smile.

“Oh, hi.”

Otabek looked quickly at Yuri, his expression confused.

“They’re just leaving.”

“Yeah, apparently you guys cancelled Food Truck Wars night and didn’t think to tell us.”

“Vitya,” Katsudon admonished, shooting apologetic looks at both Yuri and Otabek. “Ignore him. We’ll see you on Sunday.”

And then they were off, leaving Otabek and Yuri alone in the hallway.

“So, uh…” Yuri’s tongue felt thick in his mouth as he suddenly realized how close they were to this happening. After a whole month of waiting he felt weirdly shy, and not quite sure how to proceed. “You coming in?”

Otabek smiled and walked closer until he was right in front of Yuri. He reached out, cupping Yuri’s chin to steal a quick kiss. It was hardly more than a whisper of a caress, but it was sweet enough to make Yuri’s chest ache.

He turned and led Otabek into the apartment, but paused just inside the door. He glanced over towards the couch, the TV still flashing the Food Network on mute, the waiting bottle of wine, and then towards his bedroom door. Was it too much for him to just drag Otabek straight to bed? He knew that the wait had been hard on Beka too, but somehow he felt like he needed to show a little restraint—like he needed to woo Beka...or something.

Warm hands slid around Yuri’s waist, pulling him back against the solid muscles of Otabek’s chest, and Yuri felt Otabek press his chin against his shoulder. God, it was so damned nice. Nice just to have  _ time _ with Beka, and nice to know that they wouldn’t have to hold back.

“I was thinking of making some dinner,” Yuri said.

“Yeah?”

“I was watching some stuff and got a few ideas. Plus I know you’ve been living off instant trash for the last few weeks. I need to make sure you don’t get scurvy.” Yuri didn’t know what he was saying; he didn’t even know why he was talking. He wanted to turn around, drop to his knees, and finally get a taste of the piercing.

Otabek splayed one of his hands wide against Yuri’s stomach and pulled him backwards until Yuri could feel the insistent press of Otabek’s cock.

“Later?” Otabek said.

Yuri nodded, his throat too thick to get any words out. Instead, he stepped out of Otabek’s embrace, grabbed one of his wrists, and led him towards the bedroom.

As soon as they were inside, he pushed Otabek towards the bed and closed the door. There was no way Yuri wanted to risk Potya coming in and spoiling this. Yuri had waited far too long, and if it didn’t happen now he was going to combust.

And then Yuri launched himself across the room until he slammed against Otabek, tipping him back onto the bed. They landed together, Otabek grunting at Yuri’s weight before Yuri claimed Otabek’s mouth with his own.

The kiss was sloppy and wet, and exactly what Yuri needed. When he finally pulled back to catch his breath, his whole body was humming as if all of the nerves had started to burn away. In their place there was just need, and every single fantasy from the past four weeks.

He rose up and scooted back, dropping down to the floor so that he was between Otabek’s legs.

“I think these should come off,” Yuri said, already tugging at the button on Otabek’s shorts.

Otabek’s grey eyes were dark as he looked down at Yuri and nodded, helping him undo the fly before lifting his hips enough to tug both his shorts and briefs down. He quickly raised his arms, giving Yuri the most amazing view of his flexing abs and biceps as he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the floor as well.

Yuri’s gaze dropped back down to where Otabek’s cock was flushed and growing harder. And there was the winking silver. Hesitantly, Yuri reached out to trace the skin between the two silver beads. He heard Otabek’s harsh moan, his cock twitching at the touch, and Yuri felt a pulse of delight in his gut.

For the next few minutes he lavished attention on that one small spot, drinking in every groan and sigh that left Otabek, the way his cock beaded up with precum. Otabek’s fingers sank into Yuri’s hair, nails dragging along his scalp.

“Yura, more. I need you to…”

Yuri smiled and leaned forward on his knees until his breath was brushing across the dripping tip. He kissed that same patch of skin and then traced it with his tongue. Feeling bolder, he tugged lightly on the barbell with his teeth, tasting metal and the salt of Otabek’s skin. It was exactly what he’d dreamed of, and more. When he finally pulled Otabek’s cock into his mouth, he could feel the beads of precum sliding cooly against his tongue, a contrast to Otabek’s heat, and Yuri groaned around him.

Beneath him, Yuri felt Otabek’s body draw tight with the vibrations of the sound, his fingers clenching in Yuri’s hair. By the time Yuri finally pulled back to survey his work, Otabek’s cock was shiny with saliva and his chest was working hard.

Otabek’s fingers were shaky as they dragged down Yuri’s neck to grab hold of his shirt and started to tug it up.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Otabek said, his voice shaky.

Yuri grabbed hold of the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up in one smooth motion, tossing it onto to the floor. He then rose up and slid his leggings down, kicking those off as well.

Otabek’s eyes grew even darker as his gaze swept over Yuri’s bare skin. Yuri felt himself growing harder under that gaze at the thought of what was still to come.

The moment he crawled into Otabek’s lap, he felt warm fingers sliding past his hip bones and around to his ass. Otabek kneaded the flesh there, his touch as much a claim as the kiss that he pulled Yuri into, and then dragged his fingers down between Yuri’s cheeks.

One of Otabek’s fingers rubbed around Yuri’s entrance, a light teasing touch that made his breath come in heavy pants, and when it finally pressed inside him ever so slightly, the stretch made Yuri whine. He reached blindly for the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out the small bottle there, pressing it into Otabek’s hands.

He heard the click of the container opening, and then he felt the cool slide of lube against his heated flesh followed by that finger finally sinking inside him.

“You’re sucking me in,” Otabek whispered, making Yuri shudder. “Do you know how hot you always feel? Hot and soft? I can’t wait to feel you gripping me tight.”

Each word was accompanied by the movement of Otabek’s finger sliding inside Yuri, twisting and stretching him open. And then, when a second joined it, Yuri had to bite down on Otabek’s shoulder to suppress his moan—he didn’t want  _ that _ sort of a conversation with his neighbours again.

Otabek didn’t hold back, working quickly until Yuri was a ragged, begging mess, and only then did Otabek guide him off his lap and onto his hands and knees on top of the bed. A second later Otabek stood up, moving behind Yuri to press a palm against his shoulders and angle his hips.

There was the press of Otabek’s cock against his hole, the slow slide as he finally entered Yuri, and Yuri buried his face against the bedspread, tears prickling at his eyes, and his breath heaving. Finally the fullness he’d been craving for a month was so close. Except, then Beka  _ stopped _ .

Yuri had just a moment to wonder why Otabek hadn’t just thrust the rest of the way into him when he felt the catch of the barbell against his rim. And then he could feel it  _ inside  _ him, the drag of it. Yuri honestly couldn’t have said if he was enjoying the feeling of being filled or the piercing more.

When Otabek finally snapped his hips forward, driving into Yuri fast and hard, Yuri lost any remaining ability to think. His world narrowed to Otabek plowing into him, relentless, fingers clamped down on Yuri’s hips, guiding them back hard enough that Yuri knew he would see the marks for days after; he had to reach down and grip the base of his own dick to try to hold off his impending release at just the thought of those bruises.

“Beka,” he said against the mattress. “I’m so close. I can’t…I need…”

He dragged his hand up the length of his cock, twisting around the head before pumping up and down. He could feel the coiling pressure starting down around his toes, moving up through his hips, heavy in his spine. His skin had started to prickle, shivers rippling down his spine in that way that let him know he was right on the edge.

Beka leaned in, his hand joining Yuri’s, his rougher fingers giving Yuri exactly the friction he needed. Yuri’s orgasm roared through him, drawing his balls up tight and making him clamp down around where Beka was still moving inside him. His vision went hazy, his body throbbing as he came.

He sank forward, feeling the cum on the sheets sticky against his chest, and shivered at the feel of the piercing still sliding against his sensitive flesh. His dick pulsed with the overwhelming sensation.

It didn’t take long for Beka to join him in a hot spill of cum, his teeth clamping down on the back of Yuri’s neck.

Absolutely boneless, Yuri allowed Otabek to roll him onto his side, the bed shifting as Otabek laid down behind him and pressed them close. Yuri was an absolute wreck, but he didn’t fucking care. Anything involving getting up, including dealing with the cum starting to leak out of his ass, could be dealt with later. 

“That meet your expectations?” Otabek asked.

He’d slung an arm over Yuri’s waist, and Yuri enjoyed the comforting weight of it.

“Yeah, and then some,” Yuri said in lazy satisfaction.

“You sure it was the piercing? Maybe it was just four weeks of abstinence?”

Yuri found enough energy to glare over his shoulder.

“You better not be suggesting what I think you are.”

Otabek pressed closer and kissed Yuri’s lips, nibbling at his frown.

“Nope. I think the only way for us to know for sure is to try it again. As soon as I can breathe again. For science.”

“Well, if it’s for science…”

He opened his mouth to the probing of Otabek’s tongue, his sigh swallowed up. Otabek’s hands stroked up along Yuri’s side, working slowly over the sensitive spot by his ribs, until Yuri turned so that they were face to face.

“Just know we’re never going this long again,” Yuri said between gasps. He stroked his hand up Otabek’s chest to pause over one flat brown nipple, his thumb pressing against it and rubbing until he felt it harden up against the touch.

Otabek gasped, his hips rocking forward.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re joining me for the family ski trip in February. This time  _ we’ll _ be the couple that makes everyone too scared to use the hot tub,” Yuri said, a flutter of worry twisting through his chest as he spoke. He knew he was difficult, and that they’d only been together for a handful of months—the closest they’d got to planning for a future had been the four weeks of waiting for the piercing to heal.

“Deal.”

“You sure? The family can be a bit much. Viktor will be there. And Katsudon. And all the rest. They’ll make you play charades. And it’s pretty far away, and…”

Otabek smiled, and his gaze was so direct that it almost hurt. He grabbed hold of Yuri’s hand and raised it to his lips, pressing gentle kisses along his knuckles.

“Yuri, it’s fine. I like charades, and I don’t mind Viktor or Yuuri. I just got my dick pierced, partly for you. I don’t know about you, but that’s kind of a…I want to start thinking long term with you.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“It’s just so that we can wear matching t-shirts on the camping trip next year, isn’t it?”

“You figured me out,” Otabek said with a smile and kissed Yuri again.

“Just know, I will tolerate nothing less than a multi-year winning streak in the three-legged race,” Yuri said against Otabek’s lips.

“Deal.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Tumblr at thewesterndoor


End file.
